Babbling Our Way through Mysteries

"Can a mortal ask questions which God finds unanswerable? Quite easily, I should think. All nonsense questions are unanswerable. How many hours are in a mile? Is yellow square or round? Probably half the questions we ask -- half the great theological and metaphysical problems -- are like that."
- C. S. Lewis, “A Grief Observed”

In seminary I would spend hours pursuing shadow answers for endless enigmas – trying to overcome or ignore the fact which C. S. Lewis so poignantly realized: God is beyond our comprehension. Therefore, much of our intellectual pursuit of God may turn out to be nothing more than mere absurdity … babble and silly children’s conceptions.

I am reminded of the nature and ascent (or descent) of Christian theology in the Scholastic or medieval period when many a theologian tried to determine just how many angels would fit on top of a pinhead. Seriously. Countless numbers of hours and precious ink and pages were used in an honest attempt to solve this problem.

Seminary at its worst is an attempt to trap God in a box – reducing God down to a systematic method of activity or revelation. But the longer you struggle to get God’s infinite and amazing grandeur down to something clear and definite the more it begins to feel like putting a gallon of oil inside an ounce of steel.

I spent a great amount of my final year in seminary wrestling with God’s sovereignty. More specifically, I asked myself time and again a number of troubling questions. If God is in complete control, how or why did Satan manage to rebel? Is God not ultimately accountable for evil in the world? What of the freedom of humanity versus the sovereignty of God?

These kinds of questions are forever to be talked around and never to be figured out. Eventually, I realized this and began my faith journey with a renewed determination to experience God rather than explain God. I realized the futility of getting answers from the God who speaks in riddles – “the first shall be last” – and who is content with being named “I am who I am” and being revealed in a burning bush.

But now that Wyatt has come along I’ve discovered a dangerous trend. I’ve begun to transfer my desire to figure God out to a more practical if not grand desire to figure Wyatt out.

Let me back up for a moment and say that Wyatt is crying more. Sometimes it is a minor whimper. Other times it is a downright howl. This past week, he had two terrible days, including complete breakdowns that would last for up to an hour at a time.

These new developments in his personality propelled Anna and I into an exhaustive and anxious search to find answers … any answers. We scoured baby books as if preparing for a medical exam. We consulted friends as if every person might be a sage or the possessor of some lost secret from ancient cultures (“you just need to use a little tarragon extract” or something foolish like that). Our mind was intent on pursuing every possible irritant. Could it be Anna’s diet, the way we hold him, the feeding schedule or perhaps the degree at which he is inclined when he sleeps? Of course, our desire to find an answer was magnified and intensified when Wyatt’s fitful moments occurred during the early hours of morning or after a long day.

Keep in mind that Anna and I are both rather contemplative individuals which means our theories and experiments have been many these past couple of days. Anna even began keeping a log of the food she was consuming and how Wyatt would react accordingly. Another article I read from a pediatrician suggested that Wyatt should be videotaped so that tendencies can be noted and patterns observed. I took every piece of advice hook, line and sinker.

But the more I’ve talked with people and the more I’ve been around Wyatt, the more I’ve begun to realize that he is not going to be figured out … at least not in the first month. I think parenting involves a ton of experiencing to get a little bit of learning.

So I don’t know what to tell you right now. I can tell you Wyatt is sleeping right now. That is a blessing. I can tell you that there will be moments in the near future when his temperament will undoubtedly challenge all the virtues I claim to possess such as patience and gentleness. That will be a test of my faith, my character.

As far as I know, asking the question, “why is Wyatt crying?” is not too much different than asking the question, “how tall is God?” Any answer, as Lewis would assert, is more likely to be nonsense than truth.

In matters of relationship, it’s probably best to put the postulations and conjectures aside and let experiences shape and guide us.

Wes